


The Forming of the Sixth

by orphan_account



Series: The Shin Tokyo Continuity [3]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-09-16
Updated: 2005-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:40:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An AU rewriting of the first Hyoutei arc, cyberpunk-style, told from Oshitari's point of view.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Forming of the Sixth

  
It began with an routine assignment, as straightforward a run as any the Hyoutei syndicate ever did. A shipment of designer drugs had just come in from off-planet; sorting the packages and delivering them to clients was a job every squadron had to do at some point.

That it was Shishido Ryou's turn to deliver the goods was simply due to luck, or rather, Atobe's mathematical and rather high-handed method of timetabling duties, which theoretically gave every squadron leader an equal workload - unless you happened to be useful to Atobe, like Kabaji; or remarkably good at getting your own way, like Jirou.

That the run ended up being one of Hyoutei's most spectacular failures in recent history was everyone's fault, from Shishido to Atobe himself, as the gang president later admitted. Hyoutei's strategic team were aware that Fudoumine had been on the rise for months, but the thought of such a minor syndicate posing any threat to Hyoutei had been – well, they'd erred on the side of complacency.

Still, a direct raid on an opposing runner gang was a remarkably audacious act.

The first inkling that anything was wrong had come that afternoon, when Chikabayashi and Ogawa stumbled in. They'd been making their usual delivery to Nueva Shibuya, they said, when they were intercepted by two teenagers on motorcycles: one tall and wearing a white bandanna around his head, the other shorter and darker.

“And you let them _take_ the goods?” Mukahi Gakuto had asked, incredulous. As co-leaders of the First squadron, Oshitari Yuushi and Gakuto had been put in charge of headquarters for that day.

Ogawa shrugged, while Chikabayashi looked guilty. “They're extremely tough - they were on the ground, and managed to take down our flyer within thirty seconds with nothing more than a pair of laser rifles – and you know how difficult that is.”

Extremely difficult indeed. Hyoutei's flying vehicles were state-of-the-art models from the Neue Bundesrepublik, which were then tweaked for speed, manoeuvrability and stability. Laser rifles should not have been enough to take a Hyoutei flyer down in less than a minute, if the pilot was even halfway competent.

Yuushi had attended to the pair's injuries while Gakuto dispatched runners to clean up after the mess, in case the police linked the fight with Hyoutei and went to harass Sakaki about it.

He'd been halfway through setting Ogawa's broken wrist, when the second pair arrived.

Kaida and Kashiwa were uninjured, but their story was more alarming: they'd actually made it all the way to the drop point, when a thin, long-haired man approached them. Their limbs had literally been paralysed on the spot, while the man's partner, quick and snakelike, relieved them of their cargo.

“Kamio and Ibu from Fudoumine,” the shorter-haired man called over his shoulder as they left. “You'll remember our names!”

“Telekinetic?” Gakuto said. Yuushi nodded. A Level 5 psionic at the very least, to pull off a stunt like that.

“This is the first I've heard of psionics at Fudoumine.” Psionics were rare even among runner syndicates; the presence of a level five telekinetic at Fudoumine automatically elevated the gang's status from 'minor annoyance' to 'potential threat'.

Still, they hadn't expected Shishido to fall victim as well.

At dusk, members of the third squadron discovered Shishido lying in an alley near Shinjuku, suffering concussion and bleeding heavily from one temple. His flyer was nowhere to be seen. When they checked Shishido's wristcomm, however, a text message lighted up in bold colours:

 _“Tell Atobe Keigo that I look forward to seeing him again – Fudoumine's Tachibana Kippei.”_

Two hundred thousand Gibson dollars, gone in a single afternoon.

Shishido lost his position as leader of the Fifth squadron, of course; failure was not something either Sakaki or Atobe took lightly. It was the way things were done in Hyoutei, and things should have stayed that way.

#

Hyoutei's runners were divided into units of eight. These units were in turn placed in squadrons, each squadron comprising five units on average. Each unit leader answered to a squadron leader, who in turn reported directly to Atobe.

Two of Hyoutei's five squadrons had co-leaders instead of single leaders: the First, which Yuushi and Gakuto led together; and, until the Fudoumine fiasco, the Fourth.

After Shishido was dropped from the leadership, Sakaki reshuffled the positons again: Taki was sent to take charge of the Fifth squadron, while Ootori retained sole leadership of the Fourth.

When Yuushi heard the news, he thought _how interesting_ , and waited to see how events would play out.

#

“We were not,” Taki Haginosuke said, enunciating the words clearly even as he twirled a strand of fettucine around his fork, “the best of partners.”

He was extremely pretty, Yuushi thought: the only squadron leader in Hyoutei who could be thought so, with that warm auburn hair - genetically engineered, since Taki was full-blooded Asian. His long-lashed eyes were identical save for the emerald green iris of the artificial one. He'd lost his right eye in a scrap with Rikkai when he was fourteen. Some people would have worn an eye patch for life, rather than undergo the nerve rewiring that replacement surgery involved. Not so with Taki, who had no qualms about installing exotic machinery into his body – and install them he did.

Right now, Hyoutei's biomachinery poster boy seemed inclined to talk. Yuushi took a bite of his own sandwich and waited for Taki to continue.

“How long have you been working with Gakuto?”

“About a year,” Yuushi said. Outside the cafe where they were seated, the low whistle of the wind suddenly died out.

“And already you're the most efficient squadron in Hyoutei, no questions about it.” Taki dipped the pasta in its cream-and-avocado sauce and took a delicate bite. When he finished chewing, he said, “Ootori and I managed Fourth squadron for just over twenty months.” ”

That Fourth's performance had not been spectacular for those twenty months, needed no saying. They'd delivered results, of course - no one in Hyoutei kept their job without delivering results. But First had done much better, as had Third. Second squadron as well: it was in fact the best squadron, whenever Jirou could be persuaded out of his perpetual Net sleep and into doing some real work.

Fifth had lagged behind a little, but Yuushi had suspected for months that Shishido needed a co-leader to manage the position properly. Although it looked like that point was moot now.

“You've never had any interpersonal problems.”

Taki waved a hand impatiently. His palms were covered with tattoo lines from fingers to wrist – nanotech patterns, Yuushi had to remind himself, not tattoos. Tattoos, unlike the fractal lines on Taki's palms, did not shift colour constantly, turning the other boy's skin into an ever-changing work of art.

“Nobody has interpersonal problems with Ootori. You and Gakuto, on the other hand, have scraps all the time, but when you're in agreement, you _sync_.”

Yuushi had to concede that Taki was right.

Taki stabbed at his pasta again. “The fundamental problem is that we don't understand each other. No, it's more like we don't _want_ to understand each other. I don't get how anyone in the world could think like Ootori does, and to be honest, I don't want to know.”

“How are you coping with Fifth squadron?”

That earned him a small grimace. “Rather badly, to be honest. Two-thirds of them were loyal to Shishido, and don't enjoy seeing someone else take his place. The other third – ah well, the other third hated Shishido's guts, and don't take well to any sort of authority anymore. Do you mind if we leave now? I've quite lost my appetite.”

“You eat like you're trying to be a fashion model.”

“Don't be silly, now. They only take people who've had fewer than five major surgeries.”

#

Autumn came, and with it, yearly evaluations for every runner in the syndicate. Performance records were reviewed, flying and technical skills evaluated, interviews held. More excitingly, test battles were run – in VR, since not even Sakaki could convince the police that organised street fights were an innocent activity.

Hyoutei had its own virtual reality hub, although the physical location of the computers that hosted it were unknown to everyone except Sakaki and Atobe. Which was just as well, really. Everyone was aware of the risks that came with VR battling: the vulnerability of your body as it slept, your mind floating in the artificial world of cyberspace. Atobe never jacked in to the Net unless Kabaji was there to guard him, and he advised the Hyoutei runners to take similar precautions – precautions that Akutagawa Jirou persistently ignored.

Jirou loved most things about the Net, but he loved the virtual reality hubs most of all. If it were possible, Yuushi suspected, Jirou would stay online forever, his body motionless in wired sleep while his mind roamed through computer circuitry.

Taki on the other hand, despised jacking in. It was ironic, Gakuto said, that someone so enthralled with machines would hate the Net so much, but as Yuushi pointed out, Taki's obsession might be the root cause of his dislike. No matter how many weapons you implanted into your own body, it made no difference in the world of VR.

Even without his famed bioaccessories, however, Taki was quite the effective VR battler. No squadron leader had lost to an ordinary runner in recent memory, and nobody expected it to happen this time.

As it turned out, they'd underestimated Shishido.

#

Traditionally, only four people logged on to the VR space during an evaluation battle: the fighters themselves; one hacker for technical backup; and the adjudicator. Since a squadron leader was involved, the adjudicator in this instance would be Sakaki.

Atobe had chosen to come along as well, to everyone's surprise but Yuushi's.

"He's curious about what Shishido's going to do," Yuushi told Gakuto. They were among a group of about thirty Hyoutei members sitting around the common room at headquarters, waiting for the fight to begin so that they could watch it on holoscreen.

Gakuto shrugged. Unlike Yuushi, he took little interest in the workings of their president's psyche. “Atobe does whatever he wants. Although Shishido's been acting weird lately, have you noticed?

“It would be strange if he weren't acting strangely.”

“I heard he's been practising in VR with Ootori, every night for the past two weeks.”

“Is that so?” Now that was interesting. Ootori Choutarou was Hyoutei's strongest psionic after Atobe, and could almost match Kabaji Munehiro for sheer physical strength.

“He must really be pissed off about losing to that Tachibana Kippei,” Gakuto said. Atobe had told them more about the mysterious Fudoumine president at the last leader's meeting – formerly a hacker and weapons specialist from the now-defunct Shishigaku syndicate, and one of the most formidable runners in the country, with four direct raids on the military to his record.

“No, it's more than that. Tell me, Gakuto, what happens when a squadron leader loses to an ordinary runner?”

Gakuto snapped his fingers. “You can't mean - hey, that's not very nice of Ootori, plotting to overthrow his co-leader like that.”

“Former co-leader. And I'm sure Ootori doesn't see it that way. He's only helping Shishido, after all.”

Gakuto snorted in disgust. “Whatever he says,then.”

Although did Shishido actually expect to succeed? If he'd been a unit leader, or even an ordinary member, he would automatically have been promoted one step up the ranks. Given his record, however--

The chatter in the room died down as the holoscreen flared to life, and Taki and Shishido came into view. Taki was holding a spear instead of his usual plasma guns (to maintain a level playing field, only mêlée weapons were allowed in an evaluation battle). His VR outfit was dark and glittering: black combat pants with a wide-sleeved, embroidered tunic. Typical Taki, fashion-conscious at every opportunity.

Shishido on the other hand, looked almost exactly the way he did in real life: torn jeans and T-shirt, long dark hair pulled back in a haphazard ponytail. He was carrying a pair of long daggers: one in his right hand, the other strapped to his belt.

Sakaki, golden-haired and dressed immaculately in a grey suit and black tie, stood in the background, well away from the fighters. In opposite corners of the holoscreen they could see Atobe, who was watching Shishido with a little frown on his face, and Ootori, setting up the technical configurations for today's fight.

“This should be interesting,” Gakuto said, as the signal to begin went off. Taki leaped and flew forward gracefully, spear outstretched.

A murmur went through the common room as they watched Shishido dodge Taki's attack, so quickly you could see the after-images of his movement.

“He's _fast_ ,” said Gakuto, who was himself one of the swiftest VR battlers Yuushi had seen. “Hey, he's counter-attacking already!”

Yuushi could see it wasn't going to end well for Taki. Taki was _good_ , but no one had ever seen Shishido fight like this, with a speed and intensity so electric it felt like he was pushing the VR system to its limits. Yuushi suspected even Jirou would have had trouble with this speed. Taki could barely fend off his attacks – no, in fact, he wasn't even _fending_ off Shishido's attacks anymore--

In the end, it was more a massacre than a battle. Yuushi's throat tightened as Shishido dashed forward, cut through Taki's arm, and then a leg, and finally, stabbed through his upper abdomen.

“Oi, oi, isn't Sakaki going to stop this?” Gakuto said. “Even in VR, his body is going to go into shock if he takes this much trauma. You're going to have a hard time keeping him alive, Yuushi, if Shishido keeps attacking.”

Yuushi didn't reply.

There was a collective sigh of relief as the VR simulation froze over and stopped. “I'm going to the cellar,” Yuushi said. The cellar was where most of Hyoutei's computer hardware, and the NL (neural link) chairs for wiring your brain directly to the Net, were kept.

He was still somewhat stunned as he left the room, descended the stairs to reach the basement. He hadn't seen such a one-sided VR battle since Atobe defeated Jirou in less than five minutes and then calmly shook hands with the boy and logged off, sending a clear _I am still better than the best of you_ message to the squadron leaders.

When he arrived Atobe was already sitting up, calmly unplugging the wires from his head.

“Thanks, Kabaji,” he said, to the tall black-haired boy standing by his chair. “Oshitari. Please see to Haginosuke.”

“That's why I'm here,” Yuushi said, and went to the chair where Taki lay. The other boy's eyes were wide and unseeing, his breath erratic.

Around the room, Sakaki, Shishido and Ootori were jacking out, clambering out of their NL chairs.

Yuushi took Taki's pulse – higher than normal, but nothing out of the ordinary. No signs of neurogenic shock, and definitely no seizure.

He was relieved, and reminded himself that Taki was a lot tougher than the delicate exterior suggested. Which was fortunate for Shishido, since Yuushi might have had to kill him, if he'd managed to ruin Yuushi's patient survival record.

He settled back and waited for Taki to pull out of VR, aware that it might take several minutes in his current state. Two chairs away, Shishido stood up and looked at Sakaki with a desperate expectancy in his eyes.

Sakaki simply looked at Atobe and said: “Taki will be dropped from his position as Fifth squadron leader. Get Hiyoshi Wakashi to take his place.”

Atobe nodded. “Very well.”

“Sakaki-san!” Shishido dashed across the room – he didn't dare prevent Sakaki from exiting, of course, but he stopped just short of the door, dropped to his knees. “Please allow me to be a squadron leader again!”

Sakaki actually stopped, arms folded across his chest, and looked at Shishido. But it was Atobe who spoke: “Don't act so disgracefully, Shishido. You know the rules.”

“Sakaki-san! Shishido-san's been training overtime for weeks, in order to fix his combat and technological skills. He's even come up with an alternate operations plan for routine deliveries, to make sure that there'll be no repeat of what happened with Fudoumine. Please!” Everyone looked with surprise at the tall, silver-haired Ootori Choutarou, standing on the other side of the room. “I really believe he'll do a good job.”

Yuushi raised his brows. The quiet and reserved Ootori, sticking up for Shishido? Now that was a new development. Sure, they'd been training together for a fortnight, according to Gakuto – but Ootori was detached with his colleagues, at best. While his gentle demeanour and lovely manners ensured his popularity, he had no close friends among the runners.

Sakaki looked at Ootori: “Then, would you be willing to offer him your own squadron, Ootori?”

Ootori's eyes widened. Shishido looked up, a look of shock on his face. Even Atobe's face seemed to tense for a moment.

Ootori looked down for a moment, and then he brought his chin up, eyes clear and calm as he gazed back at Sakaki. “I don't mind,” he said.

Shishido sprang to his feet immediately, pulled out something silver metallic from inside his jacket: a pair of scissors. What is he going to do, Yuushi wondered, and watched detachedly as Shishido reached up, cut through the long, sleek hair he'd cultivated for years. The dark locks fell to the floor and scattered.

“Sakaki-san!” he said. “Don't remove Ootori from the position that should be rightfully his. But please give me a second chance! I won't let you down.”

 _Huh. Atobe's going to make him clean that up later._

Right now, though, the Hyoutei president seemed almost impressed. If there was a way to Atobe's heart, it was through crazy determination and dramatic gestures, both of which Shishido had displayed admirably.

“Sakaki-san,” he said. “Ootori's performance has always been excellent; there's no good reason to remove him. But I'd also like Shishido to be reinstated.”

And that was that, really; when it came down to it, Sakaki respected Atobe's judgement. “Do whatever you like,” he said, leaving the room. “I'll be back for the next round of evaluations this Saturday.”

“I didn't ask for your help,” Shishido snapped at Atobe, once Sakaki was gone.

“I can assure you, it won't happen again. And do vacuum that hair off the floor before you leave.” Atobe picked up his bags. “Let's go, Kabaji. And Ootori? Shishido will be your co-leader from today onwards.”

And with that, he left. Ootori and Shishido looked at each other, rather dazed.

Yuushi frowned. Ootori and Shishido as co-leaders of the Fourth squadron? Which meant that Hiyoshi Wakashi would be in charge of the Fifth, starting today.

He looked down at the chair where his patient was lying. As if on cue, Taki stirred and blinked his eyes.

#

Later that day, Yuushi's wrist communication band beeped. Yuushi checked it and found a text message from Atobe. _Please call me when you're done with today's duties._

Yuushi sighed and fished out his infodevice. While it was possible to make an audio call via wristcomm, sound quality was below par at best. The wristcomms were used mainly for text messaging, and for field operations and emergencies; in an everyday setting, infodevices were used preferentially.

“How is Haginosuke?” Atobe asked, the moment the call connected.

“His physical condition's normal,” Yuushi reported. “Slight fever, but nothing too serious. I'll keep him in the infirmary overnight and do another check-up in the morning, just to make sure.”

“I see. That's good to know.”

“His emotional state, on the other hand, leaves something to be desired.”

“Oh? I suppose you think I shouldn't have paired up Ootori and Shishido.” A hard quality came into Atobe's voice. It was the tone he used to indicate that he would not tolerate dissension.

“I think nothing of the sort. It was a good strategic decision. The rapport between the two of them is obvious.”

“It was a friendship that surprised me, although not as much as it surprised you, it seems.”

“No one accesses the VR space without your permission,” Yuushi pointed out. “You must have been aware of their nightly practices much earlier than I was.”

“True enough.” On the other end, Atobe was typing something on a keyboard; Yuushi could hear the tap of his fingers on the keys. “I remember your saying to me once that Shishido would function better with a co-leader. You were right.”

“Let's wait for the results to come in before jumping to conclusions, shall we?”

“Oh come now, Oshitari.” Atobe sounded amused. “I'm sure your instincts are telling you the same thing that mine are. They're going to be a formidable pair.”

Yuushi smiled despite himself. “Think they'll be able to get the better of Tachibana Kippei, if they meet him on the street one of these days?”

“Tachibana? Leave him to me.”

He was surprised; was Tachibana really enough of a threat that Atobe had to deal with him personally? “Do you really think Fudoumine is going to be a problem?”

Atobe was typing on the keyboard again. “If nothing else, we'll have to deal with them for the raid eventually. Right now though, the expansion of our territory in the south-east is headed for a possible clash with Seigaku's western border. I'm writing to Tezuka at the moment to discuss possibilities for resolving the matter.”

Yuushi tapped his chin thoughtfully. Unlike Fudoumine, Seigaku was not a gang that Hyoutei could afford to be openly hostile towards; it was one of Shin Tokyo's most influential runner syndicates. Hyoutei might be larger and wealthier, but the combined leadership of Ryuuzaki Sumire and Tezuka Kunimitsu commanded a level of respect that not even Atobe and Sakaki could rival. “That sounds like it could be an interesting experience.”

“We'll have to see. In any case, I've been waiting to face Tezuka for a long, long time.”

“I look forward to watching that fight, if you ever get the chance.” Atobe had lost to Rikkai's Sanada in (real, not VR) hand-to-hand combat half a year ago, and had been out for blood ever since. If Sanada wasn't available, then his long-time rival would do just as well.

“So what were you saying about Taki?” Typical Atobe: now that he'd gotten his major concern off his chest, he was happy to listen to Yuushi's requests.

“Yes, Taki. He's been a squadron leader for how long now – three years? Longer than anyone else except Jirou, to be honest.”

“All the more why he should know the rules.”

“Yes. But Taki's record as a leader is stellar, even if he and Ootori had – difficulties. You were aware of that yourself. You and Sakaki only kept them together because there were no good alternative combinations.”

“And is there something more?”

He paused, before answering: “Well, to be honest, – if I'd had to fight Shishido under those circumstances, I don't know if I would have won.”

“Glad to hear you being so honest about that.”

Yuushi's eyes widened. He had to bite back the urge to respond.

“Oshitari,” Atobe said. “Skill-wise you're light years ahead of Shishido and everyone knows it, including yourself. But what you saw today was his drive to overcome his own limitations. You've never had that kind of passion, and that complacency is going to bring you grief one day if you don't do something about it.”

He waited for Atobe to finish, before speaking: “That's understood. But then, what about Taki?”

“What about Haginosuke?” Atobe said. “I don't know, what about him? If you care so much about his situation, why don't you go do something about it?

Yuushi felt distinctly frustrated, as the conversation came to a close.

#

“Please, stop asking how I feel. It's unnerving. Last time I checked, you were a medic, not a psychiatrist.”

Yuushi made no answer to them, just handed Taki another drink of water. The other boy's fever had risen since yesterday, most likely from his immune system reacting to the 'wounds' he'd sustained in VR. It didn't seem dangerous, but just to be on the safe side, Yuushi planned on keeping him in the infirmary for another night.

“I really don't mind losing the Fifth Squadron,” the other boy said, sighing. “It wasn't the best job, you know?”

He adjusted the pillows so that he could sit up comfortably in bed. Sickness gave his skin a pale undertone, made him look vulnerable.

Yuushi pulled up a chair and sat down by the bedside. “Taki. I'm going to have to run the standard mental check-up, since you suffered quite a bit of trauma while in VR. Can you tell what year are we in?”

“It's the year 2469 CE. Or Anno Domini, as Atobe likes to say.” Taki said. “Must we go through all this? I'm fairly sure all my brain parts are working fine.”

Yuushi made him state the month, date and their present location, before saying: “Owls, love, and nanotechnology. Can you repeat that for me?”

“Owls,” Taki said. “Like you, with those ridiculous glasses, and your know-it-all attitude, Mr. I-am-a-Medic.”

Yuushi's eyes narrowed. “The question, please. Before I pronounce you medically unfit for work and ask Atobe to take you off the payroll for a week.”

“Oh, very well.” While Taki wasn't Hyoutei's biggest spender, he came close, with his collector's greed for electronics, peripherals and bioaccessories. Yuushi idly wondered how he was going to cope with the pay cut that came with demotion. “Owls, love and nanotechnology. Is that fine?”

“Excellent. Remember those three words, please; I'll ask you to repeat them in about five minutes.” It was a standard test for verbal memory. He went on to make Taki count in multiples of seven, spell 'elephant' backwards, and draw a set of pentagons on a writing tablet, which the boy did perfectly.

“As I've said, there's nothing wrong with me. You're wasting your time here.”

“I haven't told you the results of the check-up yet,” Yuushi murmured. “Please don't get impatient. By the way, Taki, did you know about Shishido doing extra training with Ootori?”

Taki shrugged. “I'd heard about it, but my hands were full learning how to manage the Fifth squadron.”

“You seemed to settle in pretty well with the Fifth, or so I thought.”

“I wasn't doing too badly.” Taki shifted and leaned back against the pillows. “Most of them were Shishido-types though. No sense of style, and even less technical know-how. Half of them didn't know the first thing about flyer maintenance.”

Yuushi smiled. “You always did have strict expectations of your runners where machines were concerned.”

“And their _engineers_! I was tempted to throw a fit on the spot. But I must humour you, otherwise you'll keep nagging me until you're satisfied.” Taki looked up at Yuushi. His artificial eye glinted in the sunlight filtering through the window. “You say Shishido and Ootori have become friends all of a sudden. I wasn't expecting it to happen, but I can't say I'm surprised.”

“Does it make you angry, that Ootori helped train Shishido to defeat you in battle?”

“It doesn't mean much to me. In any case, not as much as the decrease in salary does,” Taki said mockingly. “We weren't partners anymore, when he started to train Shishido, and it's not like Shishido staked me out as a target. It was simply luck of the draw that we were pitted against each other.”

“So the loss of your position bothers you?”

“Wouldn't it bother _you_?” Taki looked at Yuushi with a sly gleam in his eyes. After a moment, he looked away again. “Ah, it doesn't matter. I'll go back to working as an engineer; Atobe knows better than to place me anywhere else. It'll be a lot more enjoyable than teaching Fifth squadron how to fine-tune engines.”

“What were those three words again, do you remember?”

“Owls, love, and nanotechnology. Oshitari, do you know where you can get those artificial glands, the ones which secrete poison when you activate them? Gakuto told me about them the other day.”

Well, his cognitive functions seemed to be fine, at any rate.

#

Annual evaluations were over within a week, and life at Hyoutei continued as usual. It soon became apparent that Shishido and Ootori were formidable co-leaders, Ootori's psionic abilities and hacking skills (he was Hyoutei's telecommunications expert) perfectly complemented by Shishido's field expertise and strategic thinking.

Yuushi didn't realise how good a team they were, however, until Gakuto ran up to him in the middle of October, waving an infodevice at him.

“Yuushi, look! These are the reports from the past month – _look_!”

He took a look at the graphs that were on the infodevice screen and winced, just a little. “Fourth squadron outperformed First on profit?”

“Not just that. Customer compliance for their protection scheme is at an all-time high; police investigations at absolute zero. Shishido somehow managed to revive that casino on the south end that was going absolutely nowhere, and if what I've heard is true, morale in the Fourth hasn't been this good in years.”

“In other words, they're better than we are?”

“No way!” Gakuto stomped his foot, “Come on Yuushi, come up with one of your brilliant plans. First has always been the best squadron! We've got to beat those guys!”

“What about Fifth?” Yuushi asked.

“Fifth isn't doing too bad either! Not as well as it was under Shishido, but that's to be expected with a new leader. He's certainly streamlined operations a lot over there.” Gakuto made a face. “Hiyoshi's pretty smart, really. Too bad his personality sucks.”

In the final round of evaluation battles, Hiyoshi had managed to defeat Ootori in a matter of minutes, to everyone's surprise but Atobe's. Yuushi had a conversation with Atobe on the issue:

“I knew he was a martial arts expert, but I didn't expect that to transfer so well to the VR setting.” Yuushi had done a research project on the neuroscience of VR simulations, as part of his medic training. It was then that he'd learnt that physical training, while helpful in many instances, was not necessarily an advantage in a VR battle. It trained your mind to expect certain physical limitations, limitations that didn't exist in VR.

“Hiyoshi's a battler, whether it's on the Net or on the street. He's Hyoutei's best fighter by far.” Excluding Atobe himself, of course; that went without saying. “ The only reason he didn't make squadron leader earlier is his lack of - charisma, shall we say?”

“I never knew people skills were a requirement. Perhaps I should have put in more effort.”

“Huh. Try not to empathise with other people _too_ much; you're weepy enough as it is. Have you talked to Haginosuke lately, by the way?”

Not lately; life at Hyoutei was hectic at the best of times, and since Taki no longer came to leadership meetings, Yuushi hadn't seen him since the battle with Shishido. According to Gakuto and the other resident gossips, Taki was now an engineer in Second squadron, which made sense. Jirou was the most easy-going of the squadron leaders, and the most likely to let Taki sit there and play with his machines to his heart's content.

The thought made Yuushi frown, because Taki wasn't the sort of person to hide from the world and do nothing but tinker with circuitry. He recalled what Atobe had said once: “Haginosuke only locks himself up when he's sulking.”

He reminded himself to go visit Taki when he had the chance, but this was rendered unnecessary two days later, when the auburn-haired boy presented himself at the infirmary, his hands covered with a a red, angry-looking rash.

“Allergic reaction,” Gakuto said, his hand over his mouth – was Gakuto giggling? “I thought you were more professional than that, Taki.”

Taki ignored him, and said to Yuushi: “It was those artificial glands I was telling you about, the ones that synthesize toxins. Do you think you could figure out what it is that's giving me the reaction?”

“How do you get the glands in? Surgical implant?”

“Intravenous injection,” Taki said. “I sent you the disclaimer and the relevant information on your infodevice, and here's the sample." He held out a small, copper-coloured vial. "I'd have done the chemical analysis to save you time, but my current workshop doesn't have the resources.”

Of course; as a runner of standard rank, Taki wouldn't have access to the main laboratory. Yuushi took the bottle from Taki's hands and said. “We'll do the analysis; we should have a diagnosis by tomorrow. In the meantime, would you like an anti-allergenic?”

“No, thanks,” Taki said politely. “I already gave myself a shot this morning.”

Gakuto looked at his retreating back as he left. “He seems less angry than usual, doesn't he?”

“Don't you mean less sarcastic?”

But Gakuto seemed more thoughtful than he usually was. “Let's not ever lose, okay? I feel sorry for him. I don't ever want people to feel sorry for me like that.”

#

  
“A Sixth squadron,” Atobe said flatly. They were in his study, oak and mahogany with touches of golden light.

“It's worth looking into,” Yuushi said. “The size of Hyoutei exceeded 230 some time ago. The First and Third squadrons are bursting at the seams. Also, I think it would be more efficient to have a special squadron set aside for engineers and mech work, rather than spreading our techs throughout each squadron, as we've done in the past. We've always gone for a generalist approach, but a degree of specialisation would improve the syndicate's efficiency.”

“With Haginosuke in charge, of course.”

“No one understands engineering better than he does.”

“You always did have a soft spot for your patients,” Atobe said. “Sakaki's not in the mood to make any more exceptions.”

Which was not a no, precisely. “It still makes strategic sense.”

“I'll think about it. After I attend to more pressing matters. I have a letter from Tezuka, here,” he indicated his desk, “challenging Hyoutei's right to control the territory in the south-east. He thinks the quarrel would be best solved by VR combat, and so do I.”

Yuushi nodded. “Permission to get back to you on this, then?”

“If you wish. But try to pay attention to the upcoming conflict with Seigaku. It is of some importance.” Atobe nodded at the letter. “Tezuka proposes a group battle with eight people on either side, with Sakaki and Ryuuzaki Sumire as the joint adjudicators. What say you?”

“It sounds fair to me.” Eight people would mean all the squadron leaders, plus Atobe himself. “We're expecting the usual eight from Seigaku, then?”

“It seems not.” Atobe tapped the desk. “Tezuka has submitted the list of names, and Momoshiro Takeshi is not one of them.”

“Oh, really? Has there been a new addition to the Seigaku committee, then?”

“He's not a committee member, but he is supposed to be a brilliant fighter,” Atobe said. “He's only fifteen, and his name is Echizen Ryoma. Apparently he was the one who put Yamabuki's Akutsu Jin in hospital.”

Yuushi was surprised: A kid who'd managed to defeat Yamabuki's renowned hitman? “Akutsu had to go into hiding after that, I recall. Because the hospital ran a background check on him, and linked him with the assassination of the mayor of Yokohama.”

“Yes. Yamabuki hasn't been functioning as well, ever since their golden boy went missing.”

“What an interesting little boy,” Yuushi said, smiling.

“Yes. Not quite worth my attention, of course; but it would be interesting to see how he fares against Hiyoshi.”

#

  
“Gakuto told me you went to Atobe,” Taki said, some days later, when Yuushi took the defibrillators to his workshop for a maintenance check. “I don't need charity, any more than Shishido does.”

Yuushi simply said. “Shishido did need charity. A fair amount of it.”

Taki unscrewed the bottom of the defibrillator, inspected the circuitry within. “I'm not Shishido.”

“Which is why I'm suggesting a solution very different from Shishido's.” Yuushi shrugged, leaning back against the door of the workshop. “You're wasted as an ordinary runner, Taki; the sensible thing to do is to combine your leadership skills with somewhere where you can play with your toys.”

“By forming a whole new squadron? That's ridiculous. No one would buy the idea. They'd accuse the leadership of nepotism, and you know it.”

“You wouldn't have to be Sixth squadron leader, necessarily. What about chief engineer? How does that sound to you?””

The other boy flicked a screw at him. “It sounds even worse,” he said.

“I'm serious. The runners won't mind. They're all clamouring for better technical support, and everyone knows how good you are. I'm thinking of Hyoutei, not just your own emotional health.”

"So you don't deny that my emotional health is involved."

"You have not smiled," Yuushi said, "since you were put in charge of Fifth Squadron."

Taki sighed, and handed the defibrillator back to him. “There, all done. Do whatever you like. But I doubt you'll get Sakaki to change his mind.”

#

Three weeks later, Hyoutei fought Seigaku and lost.

Taki spent the entire morning in the cellar, running maintenance checks on the equipment. Since Seigaku did not have a VR hub of their own, they would be using Hyoutei's. On the other end of the connection, Inui Sadaharu was doing his own maintenance check, testing the VR space for any abnormalities.

It was unnecessary, really. Hyoutei was honourable to a fault when it came to the rules of fighting. Atobe could be remarkably vicious in a fight, but he always stuck to his own, unwritten code.

Still, Yuushi could understand the desire to be careful. Better safe then sorry.

He and Gakuto arrived just as Taki was replacing the wires on the last neural link chair. “All done,” he said, putting the final screw into place.

Gakuto shook his head. “That must have taken ages.”

“Thank you, Taki,” Yuushi said. It was peculiar, seeing the electronics specialist do this. Equipment check-ups were grunt work, something even the technophobic Atobe knew how to do; they were usually left for an ordinary runner to do. Except Taki was an ordinary runner now, of course.

“It was nothing . Try not to lose, okay?”

“Do you really think we will?” Yuushi asked.

“Well, you won't, since you can apparently do anything.” Taki smiled. “Atobe just told me that he wrote a letter to Sakaki last night, requesting the formation of a Technical Squadron.”

Yuushi suddenly felt decidedly cheerful. “Oh really?”

“He also told me to guard all of you while you're in battle, since Kabaji's joining you and won't be play the bodyguard this time round. Apparently he thinks the prospect of promotion is sufficient incentive not to stab him in the back.”

“Hey Yuushi, don't just stand around! Hurry up and jack in!” Gakuto was already sitting in a chair, fiddling with the wires. “Look, Atobe and Kabaji and Jirou have already gone on.”

“Talk to you later, then,” Yuushi murmured. He sat down in the nearest NL chair and plugged the wires into the ports at the base of his skull – installing the plug points was a standard surgical procedure for children these days, done in primary school.

“Initialising log-on,” said a female voice. Auditory sensation was always the first to activate when you plugged in. “Please lie down. Connecting to the Hyoutei network.”

He did so. Around him, the world shifted and turned into a bright blue screen, with about twelve different menus. His gaze fell on the buttons in the bottom right corner: “ENTER VIRTUAL REALITY HUB”, “CONNECT TO GLOBAL NETWORK”, “LOG-OFF.”

“Let's enter the VR hub,” he murmured. There was a strange series of squeaks and hisses, a sense of disorientation as the screen shifted into a vortex of colour. After about a minute he found himself standing on a street, wearing jeans and a plain white T-shirt.

Atobe and Kabaji were already there, as were Shishido, Ootori and Hiyoshi. Jirou appeared a moment later, covering a yawn with his hand. Even in VR, he had that perpetually sleepy look on his face.

“Configure your weapons and uniform, and then make your way to the battlefield. Standard formation: Jirou and I will take the centre; with Kabaji and Hiyoshi backing us up. Oshitari and Gakuto, you go on the left; Shishido and Ootori can go on the opposite side. We'll be wearing blue and grey today, to differentiate us from the Seigaku people.”

The Seigaku people were waiting when they arrived. Yuushi blinked; was that Momoshiro he saw? And a noticeable absence of Tezuka's deputy, Oishi.

He saw Tezuka's tall, forbidding figure, as well as the smiling face of Fuji Syuusuke, one of Shin Tokyo's most formidable psionics. Next to Fuji was a dark-haired boy, head half-hidden beneath a baseball cap – so that was Echizen Ryoma, about whom rumours were spreading like wildfire among the Shin Tokyo runners?

“I'm afraid Oishi wasn't able to make it today, so Momoshiro will be filling in for him,” Tezuka said, after shaking hands with Atobe. “ _Someone_ had to keep Seigaku running while we were gone.”

Yuushi exchanged a glance with Gakuto; was Tezuka actually making a _joke_? But it was the last chance he had to communicate with Gakuto for a while; within a matter of seconds, his red-haired co-leader was caught up in a taunting game with Kikumaru Eiji, Seigaku's renowned cat burglar.

Yuushi had to smile. There was no stopping Gakuto's competitive streak.

Then Sakaki arrived, together with Seigaku's senior adviser, Ryuuzaki Sumire, and it was time to begin.

Gakuto leaped forward the instant the signal went off; most people would have been unable to avoid his dagger. But Kikumaru was fast enough to make Shishido look slow: a twist, a somersault, and the two of them were off in a whirl of limbs. Yuushi looked around, and smiled slowly as he saw the tall, spiky-haired Momoshiro Takeshi advancing on him, machete in hand.

He held out his own sword. “Shall we?”

The battle lasted a long time.

Within a few minutes, he and Gakuto had settled into a rhythm: he guarded Gakuto's back in the moments when the smaller boy needed to take a breather; Gakuto in turn, moved in and sliced at Momoshiro, taking advantages of the gaps that Yuushi wasn't quite quick enough to exploit.

Yuushi kept track of the general flow of the battle, knowing that Gakuto was counting on him to do so. Kabaji and his tall, powerful opponent were the first to retire; somehow they'd managed to inflict serious injuries on one another within the space of a few short minutes. Through the clash of weapons and the flash of metal, Yuushi could see Sakaki and Ryuuzaki nod at one another; and then both Kabaji and Kawamura were gone, ejected from the VR space.

He stepped forward, and with a twist of his sword, sent Momoshiro's machete flying out of his hand. It was a beautiful move, and would have earned him the kill, had Kikumaru not come flying straight for him; forcing Gakuto to come to his defense, and by the time they'd fended him off, Momoshiro had regained his weapon and was up again, grinning as he went for Gakuto this time.

Kikumaru was really amazingly fast. A stronger fighter than Gakuto, really. A movement at the periphery of his vision – was that Hiyoshi? Flying through the air, only to land on the ground with an ignominious smack? And the small, dark-haired Echizen standing with a satisfied look on his face, staff outstretched.

“That's our Echizen,” Momoshiro said proudly. “He does good work, doesn't he?”

“You can admire him after you've defeated me,” Yuushi said, and he lunged again, barely missing Momoshiro's neck.

But they were rapidly becoming outclassed. Every passing minute Gakuto breathed a little harder, seemed a little more distracted. VR battling needed a particular kind of focus, and Gakuto's brain was telling him that his body should be exhausted by this point, even though he knew wasn't. But it was difficult dealing with the conflicting brain-body signals, and it looked like Gakuto was going to give way before Kikumaru did.

On the other side of the field, Ootori and Shishido seemed to be doing splendidly. It figured, Yuushi thought sourly; Shishido was running around with his new-found speed, blocking every attack Inui Sadaharu and Kaidou Kaoru threw at them, while Ootori attacked both psionically and with that large, sweeping broadsword he held.

“Hey Tezuka, are you sure you should be working in VR? Sure your neurons can take the damage?”

Tezuka simply responded by slicing at Atobe with his katana, an attack Atobe dodged easily. One of Yuushi's gifts was being able to sense and trace psionic attacks, and he could feel the force of Atobe's telepathy, pressing in on Tezuka, relentlessly searching out his weaknesses.

He could also feel the outline of Tezuka's mind, broad and deep as a mountain, unyielding to Atobe's attacks.

“Please don't feel the need to hold back,” Tezuka said, holding his sword out.

Atobe scowled and leaped forward – no, he visibly _flew_ in mid-air. “Have it your way, then!”

As the battle continued, Yuushi watched the two of them out of the corner of his eye – Atobe's grace and dramatic sweeps of the sword, Tezuka's perfect and impenetrable technique. VR battling at its finest; more than anyone else in the room, they knew how to manipulate the nature of virtual reality, defying physical limits.

Later Yuushi reflected that perhaps he shouldn't have been focusing so hard on Tezuka that he got stabbed in the chest by Momoshiro.

#

“And so we're stuck at that south-eastern border again.”

“Seems like it,” Yuushi said. They were back in Atobe's study, after watching a replay of the Hyoutei-Seigaku battle on holoscreen. “You did did a good job against Tezuka, though.”

Atobe had more than distinguished himself; the only one besides Ootori and Shishido who'd delivered a decent performance against Seigaku. Yuushi had never seen so much neurological damage inflicted in a VR setting, short of actually killing one's opponent. Tezuka would be in a coma for a long while.

Atobe frowned. “I didn't expect that him to be so persistent about things,” he said. “My plan was to have Tezuka concede, not to have him fight until he was almost dead.”

“But you rather admire him, don't you?”

Atobe actually smiled. “Yes, I do. In a way. He's remarkably skilled; he may surpass Sanada.”

All the better for Atobe's ego, since unlike with Sanada, he'd actually managed to win this fight. Although knowing Atobe, he'd probably go and ask for a rematch once Tezuka was recovered. _If_ Tezuka ever recovered, of course. Tezuka's long struggle with neurological injury was the stuff of runner legend, and the fight with Atobe seemed to have delivered a sharp shock to his nervous system. Enough to damage entire segments of the brain. It would take a superlatively skilled neurosurgeon to restore what had been destroyed.

But Seigaku had proved that it wasn't just Tezuka who made them strong.

“And Fuji Syuusuke. I haven't seen Jirou defeated that badly since the last time you fought him.”

Atobe looked thoughtful. “Fuji's always been a wild card. Nobody knows how strong he is, except that no one has ever seen him take a loss. A bit like you, in that regard.”

“But I lost yesterday.” In an unforgivably careless way; although Yuushi didn't feel too upset about it.

“Yes. In a typically careless manner. You'd be a better fighter than Jirou if you ever tried.”

“It's not like Jirou tries.”

“Of course he tries. He follows Marui Bunta around incessantly and develops progressively useless tricks to deploy in VR.” Atobe said, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Yuushi laughed. “Well, he must be learning something useful, since it's Marui Bunta.”

One good thing had come of the defeat: as the result of more than half their leadership team failing rather spectacularly against a rival gang, Sakaki had made amendments to Hyoutei's 'no failure' policy.

“Looks like you got your way in the end,” Atobe said, nodding at the memo on his desk.

“I haven't quite got your talent for shaping events, but things do occasionally work out to my satisfaction.” He smiled as he said this, reading through Sakaki's written approval of the petition to form Sixth Squadron, a specialist group for engineering and technical support. “He hasn't specified it in writing, but may I assume that Taki is the preferred candidate for leadership?”

“Idiot,” Atobe smirked. “You really do have a soft spot for patients.”

Yuushi shrugged. “Why would I put up with you all, if I didn't?”

“I pay you,” said Atobe.

“A pittance,” Yuushi said, “and you ignore occupational safety laws.”


End file.
